Monday, March 23, 2015

Sometime around the middle of January I sensed a disturbance in the force. The humans left home one night…and didn’t return. Didn’t return that night anyway. Then they didn’t come home the next day either. Or the next. Three days later they finally returned…
…and I kind of wish they hadn’t.

They came home toting a tiny screaming machine that they like to call Cooper. I call it a nuisance. After a couple of weeks I realized that “Cooper” was actually going to keep living with us. I also realized that Dixie and I have been thoroughly knocked down the attention totem pole. Gone are the evenings of lounging on the couch between the parentals being worshipped and adored. Now nights are spent watching them hold the little monster while he sleeps, makes noise, and eats. Yes. They feed him in their arms. Mother never fed ME in her arms… Also gone are nights spent sleeping on the bed. We’ve been banned from the bedroom and heaven help if we set foot in “Cooper’s” room. Once Mom caught Dixie sitting in the gliding chair in this room. As cats we’re not really afraid of death. We have nine lives after all. But at that moment I’m fairly positive Mother was ready to relinquish Dixie of one of hers.

Seriously. Almost all of their time is taken up with It. If they’re not feeding him, they’re playing with him. If they’re not playing with him, they’re washing his bottles. If they’re not washing his bottles, they’re wiping his butt. They wipe his butt for pity’s sake!

Oh! And if ALL of that wasn’t enough. The icing on the top of this miserable cake? A few days after the new addition came home, they TOOK THE BED OFF THE FRAME. One of our favorite hiding spots was under this bed. No more. No more hiding under the bed. No more clawing the bed frame. Not that it matters since we’re no longer allowed in the room with the bed anyway! GAH!!

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Hello, all.
This blog sure has taken a back seat to something. What was it again? Oh yeah. The little human I made that is completely dependent on me.

That little human will be eight weeks old Thursday. Unbelievable. He loves to be talked to and one of my favorite things in the world is when he smiles at me. I dropped him off today for his second half day of daycare. More for my benefit than his. This way I'll get sort of used to it and maybe I won't be a wreck when I go back to work next week. The house seems oddly quiet sitting here by myself with the cats. (They are LOVING this temporary quiet by the way and they are still quite perturbed about having their lives turned upside down.)

Like I said, I go back to work full-time next week. Part of me is anxious to get back into a routine and resume some sense of normalcy (and wear makeup and real clothes). Then part of me just wishes I could stay home with him and not let someone else feed him, change him, soothe him and see those smiles. The sweet ladies in the nursery gave me a tissue and a "bless your heart" yesterday when I cried dropping him off. Being a mom is hard. You know it's going to be hard. You just don't know it's going to be hard.
Maybe more on that later.

For now I'm going to do some laundry, clean, (it's amazing how little you get done with an infant in the house), and maybe work a jigsaw puzzle of two.